


Sabishigari-ya

by Alexgrand



Category: One Piece
Genre: Bisexual, Gen, M/M, POV First Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Probably one shot, Voice Kink, Well it was supposed to be a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2020-05-02 09:58:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19196566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexgrand/pseuds/Alexgrand
Summary: Trafalgar Law attends medical school in Tokyo. Though he excels academically, his social life is lacking. He finds a website where he becomes infatuated with a user named Mugiwara22.





	1. SexyVoice

**Author's Note:**

> This is PWP. Sexyvoice is a real site but my portrayal of it isn’t accurate. Just wanted to do a LawLu oneshot. Might make another chapter but not sure yet.

_Sabishigari-ya_.

 

It’s the first Japanese word I’ve heard since I moved to Tokyo. Ironically I have no use for the language since I started living here. Everybody speaks English. On my mom's side I’m Japanese. She passed away when I was ten years old and my American father raised me by himself. Coming to this island country was my attempt to connect with her. I’ve only managed to isolate myself.

 

Sure, there are plenty of beautiful women here. I’ve had my fair share. When I’m tired of taking the lead, I bottom for studs in Shinjuku. The thing I’ve come to notice is the classification of _everything_ . Labels upon labels. My bisexuality breaks minds. It’s either one or the other, one night stands seem to lecture me with their confused stares. You’re straight or you’re not. You’re Japanese or you’re not. You’re _esu_ or you’re _emu (1)_.

 

My dry spell started sometime around Spring. Maybe my mind is wired to shut people out when the cherry blossoms are in bloom. Whatever the fuck is happening in that bundle of grey matter, it prevents me from wanting to go out or getting to know people. Transforms me into a loner.

 

"Sabishigari-ya." I repeat after Shachi. We're on the Joban line, eastbound for Chiba. His stop is next. My stop in Matsudo is still a couple stations further.

 

"Yeah, you're a loner. But it's ok. Japan has loner culture." The car halts and Shachi wishes me luck with my studies. He's a literature major. I'm on the medical track. We met at an inter-departmental social.

 

I finally get to my stop and walk back to my dorm. Then I do what any normal twenty-four year old alone at night would do. Watch porn. It’s mostly POV. There are cute girls and their squeaky voices and perky tits that amateur directors love zooming in on. I land on gay porn videos eventually. Over the top acting and stupid background music. I tell myself to get out of this hole I’ve dug. Get a life. But I end up looking at more.  

 

One video is just a black screen with the sound of a man getting himself off. I thought something was wrong with my phone until I read the description. The uploader put a link to a site called SexyVoice. I pray it's not a malicious redirect and click the hyperlink. Up pops a site with a pitch black background and a logo consisting of a pair of red lips. "SexyVoice - Erotic Voice Submissions."

 

The link is no longer valid so I explore the other pages. I finished my work at the lab today, I've got time to kill.

 

There’s some of everything on this site. I can listen to people narrating their dirtiest fantasies while masturbating or simply leaving suggestive messages for their online paramours. What’s surprising is that my imagination runs wild as I eat up recordings of  people reaching intense orgasms. I can imagine being right there controlling the outcome though I know my presence does not make a difference. When the recording stops my mood dies a little but I keep finding finding other recordings to listen to.

 

I look at popular posts. Some guy named “Mugiwara22” won best voice of the year in the male category. I feel like a stalker as I read his profile. Twenty-three year old student living in Saitama prefecture. There were comments on his recordings from both men and women, begging for Mugiwara22 to post more, telling him his partner must be one lucky person.

 

Ok, I’ll bite. I play his highest ranking post, “ _Okaeri_.”

 

The web player launches and starts playing the file immediately. It’s just a guy sappily greeting "me" as I come home to him. Not exactly my kind of thing but damn, this guy’s voice _is_ cute. Not shrill, a cross between tomboy and twink. I imagine him as feminine-looking but some of his intonations make me think I'm wrong.

 

Mugiwara has an entire library for me to binge. “Cheering you on,” “Holding you,” "Good morning” just to name a few. All ranked five stars. I find myself listening to more than I had originally intended. They’re pretty harmless. Out of context it would sound like a boyfriend recording inspirational messages for his girlfriend. Oddly enough it made me feel less lonely.

 

I notice the time and tell myself to get some sleep. Mugiwara22 even has a recording for bedtime. Of course he does. I open _“Ne-ochi (2)”_ in a new tab and close my eyes.

 

After a few seconds I hear the rustling of sheets. "You still awake?"

 

"Yes," I murmur stupidly. It's not like he's really talking to me.

 

More rustling. "What happens if I touch you here? Mm, does that feel good?"

 

It's the cheesiest thing ever but I'm as hard as hell under the covers of my futon.

 

“You want me to put it in you?”

 

Fuuuuuuck. Is this real? Well, obviously not, but I lie there in bed wide awake. My dick is too. Truth be told, a very vocal partner is my weakness. This dialogue-driven masturbation thing just might be my newest addiction.

 

Mugiwara brings the mic to his dick and I start hearing the wet sound of cum-smeared strokes. He tells me the way I've got my ass positioned is driving him crazy. I involuntarily moan into my pillow.  Mugiwara says he’s going to come soon and I lose my sense of control. Hands free, my sensitive head spurts white all over the front of my boxers.

 

"You came too? I can tell. You're so wet…"

 

I hear him lie down and say something I don't understand. Tissue? Towel? I dunno. Too sleepy to care. Then there's a small kissing sound.

 

" _Oyasumi_."

 

I start understanding the hype. I know my comment will probably get buried in a sea of other ones but I start to leave one anyways. Then I tell myself to write in English, that'll make me stand out. Then I talk myself out of it.

 

In the morning I delete SexyVoice from my browser history.  

 

But on the train I get restless. I find his web page again and listen to “Good morning.” Makes me smile a little during my long commute to the university.

 

I start downloading the recordings to my phone so I can listen to one for every situation where I needed him. Eating breakfast, studying, or sleeping. It’s weird. It’s terrible. I can’t stop. One earbud stays in focused on Mugiwara even while I’m hanging out with Shachi.

 

One night I stay a little later than I should have at the lab. I check the time and tell myself to get moving to the station before it shuts down and I’m left without a ride home.

 

“I’m so tired,” I hear Mugiwara say. I realize that my earbuds aren’t in and someone is yawning right across from me. No. That would be too much of a coincidence.

 

I glance up. Some lanky guy in sandals is massaging his temples. Looked like a typical person to me. Maybe I was just hearing things. He catches me staring and asks where I’m from. In English.

 

“California.” I reply.

 

“Oh, California. Nice. Sunshine.” He’s confident. Kinda air-headed.

 

There’s not many people on the train. Some are sleeping. Others listening to music or reading a book. Sandals gets off at the next stop.

 

“ _Oyasumi_ ,” he waves at me.

 

The similarity in voice is uncanny. This is the voice I’ve been going to sleep to every night for the past two weeks. I take a risk and call out, “Mugiwara?”

 

But he’s already on the other side of the closing door. I know he heard me. He’s got this look on his face as the train takes off. Again, could have been a mistake. Maybe I’m remembering things differently.

 

I get no sleep that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) S or esu for Sadist and M or emu for Masochist. It’s not always used in the sexual sense sometimes just as a personality description.
> 
> (2) Falling asleep with someone on the phone, skype, etc.


	2. Onani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Well, this was supposed to be a oneshot but I decided to add another chapter because of all the great feedback! Does this story remind anyone of the movie Her? My sister said it did lol  

  _02_

 

 

The next morning I show up to school with bags darker than usual under my eyes. I spent all night drafting messages to Mugiwara under a throwaway account (Heart95) but I erased each attempt. 

 

Shachi is nowhere to be seen. I get a text from him that he's out sick. Yeah, right. It's Friday. He got an early start on Golden Week (1). A whole week off means the perfect time to avoid people. I fucking hate crowded places. 

 

In class, which is sparsely attended to no one's surprise, I get assigned to a group project. All the work gets dumped on me. Meanwhile my classmates have their side conversations in Japanese. They talk about getting fucked (and fucked up) over the holidays. Either they think that I can't understand them or they just don't care. 

 

After the hell that is lab finally ends, I settle on finding a solitary corner in the university library. Rain pitter patters against the large windows overlooking campus. Shit, I was so out of it this morning that I forgot to bring an umbrella. Today just keeps getting better and better.

 

My biochemistry textbook glares at me from the desk where I sit. At a snail's pace I read chapter after chapter. Hours pass by. The letters run together. 

 

I want to hear Mugiwara again. 

 

SexyVoice shows me that he recently uploaded, "On the Train" and sheer will stops me from hurling my phone at the wall. Thankfully the library is a ghost town. 

 

I make sure that my earbuds are in tight and hit play. Mugiwara talks about rainy weather and upcoming holidays. Hearing him speak confirms my suspicions. It was definitely him last night. But he doesn't hint at our encounter.

 

Mugiwara goes quiet. I can tell he wants to say something. After a long pause he mutters, "I haven't been able to stop thinking about the foreigner I saw on the train last night." 

 

Holy shit. 

 

"I wonder if that same person is listening right now..." his voice lowers to a sultry whisper.

 

My hand slips into my pocket to turn up the phone volume. Instead my fingers brush against a _very_ obvious hard-on. At the same time I hear the zipper of Mugiwara's pants open. 

 

His moans hit my eardrums. Out loud he asks, "How often do you listen to me?"

 

I want to respond, "Way too much." 

 

"Wouldn't have pegged someone like you as a _pervert_." 

 

I imagine the smile on his fuckable face as he shakily exhales a laugh. It's not condescending but playful. I really like the way he sounds. 

 

And so does my body. Hunched over the desk that I'm "studying" at, I rub a palm over the tent in my jeans. Each time Mugiwara's breath hitches I lose myself to baser instincts. 

 

"Should have made you suck me off on the train," my own dick starts dripping uncontrollably at Mugiwara's suggestion. 

 

"I bet you'd let me come in your mouth," the knocking of his knuckles against his phone's mic increases in intensity. He's not the only one that likes that idea. I'm already close when he escalates, "Would you let me fuck you?"

 

I'm kneading the base of my cock with increased enthusiasm. Never in my life have I thought about public sex but for some reason picturing it with Mugiwara gets me excited. Fucking hell—

 

"Excuse me, we're closing." I almost jump out of my chair when a librarian cuts through my fantasy. She's a small older woman in glasses looking down at me concerned.

 

"Oh, sorry," I take extra time gathering my things. Mugiwara's recording is on pause as I head out the building. The rain hasn't let up. It's only 10:30pm. 

 

On my way to the train station I get soaked in rain water. I board the Marunouchi line a mess.

 

It's just me and a few salary men so I resume Mugiwara's recording. 

 

"Spread your legs," he instructs. I hear his knees press down on a mattress. The creaking helps me visualize myself under him. I create a small distance between my legs and shield the center with my wet book bag. Then I skirt a few fingers around the tip of my revived erection. Mugiwara’s grunting nearly forces me to break my silence.

 

Panting, he asks me to imagine how good his cock would feel inside me. I disguise the whimper that slips between my lips with a forced cough. 

 

I get a couple of glances but not much attention is drawn. I keep listening to Mugiwara, whose breaths turn ragged as he whines, “I wanna know how you sound when you come...” 

 

The train reaches my transfer stop and I dash out in search of the nearest restroom. No one else is in here. I pick a stall furthest from the entrance. 

 

One hand on my phone and the other one unbuttoning my drenched pants, I launch the recording app on my phone. There's files from lectures that professors let me record. What I'm about to add to that collection is far from educational. 

 

My thumb hits “record.” I hold the phone up to my face while pumping my dick furiously. Occasionally I back into the door. Something about doing this makes me feel dirty. I don't hate it.  

 

I can't listen to Mugiwara and record at the same time so I have to imagine his voice. Given how much I listen to him, this isn't a challenge. All sorts of images from my subconscious arise to fuel my libido. Yet it's recalling my meeting with Mugiwara yesterday that arouses me the most. His smile and happy-go-lucky attitude. I replay last night but visualize myself going down on him in a deserted train car. 

 

 They say you count and swear in your native language. I try to use some Japanese but I holler "fuck!" when my orgasm hits me. It's intense. Summer-when-I-first-discovered-masturbation intense. My outburst bounces off the walls for the device in my hand to capture. Cum soaks the fingers in my underwear. I take a deep breath before saving the file as “4 mugiwara.” 

 

By the time the last train headed for the Joban line approaches I've cleaned up what I can. The ride to Matsudo is uncomfortable. I touch everything through my jacket to avoid spreading any germs. Could not have been happier to be back at the dorms. 

 

The covers of my futon embrace me and for the first time in a long time I welcome loneliness. But I remember the recording I made. Self-consciously I listen to it, earbuds in. My voice is nearly unrecognizable. Not that I listen to myself often. It’s strange. 

 

I go back to Mugiwara’s post to play the rest of “On the Train” but it was removed by the user himself. I’m confused. A trip to his page doesn’t offer any explanation as to why either. I notice the option to send him a private message. Why hadn’t I seen that before? All this time I thought I could only communicate with him via public commentary. Stayed up last night for nothing. 

 

The paperclip in the corner of the message box catches my eye. My thumb taps it and I attach the recording I made. I type, “Missing the sunshine in California today,” but ridicule myself for writing out such a weird note. I hit backspace over and over to delete my message but the page refreshes. 

 

Wait. Did I not hit delete? 

 

Did I just hit _enter ?_

 

I sit up, a hundred times more alert than I was before. 

 

SexyVoice notifies me that my PM went through. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) A week of holidays in Japan usually spanning from the end of April to the beginning of May.


	3. Asa-Dachi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fall! This summer went by so fast. Hope everyone's week is going well.

 

The weekend goes by without any response from Mugiwara. I'm sure he has plenty of messages like mine anyway. I go from feeling embarrassed to proud to ashamed to just plain old fucking angry. Why hasn't he responded to me yet!? 

 

Monday rolls around and I have no clue what to do. The dorms are mostly empty since everyone's gone. There are still some leftover people, myself included. No one is in the lounge this early in the morning so I go downstairs with my laptop to do some research. Yes, I study even during the holidays. I can rest when I'm dead. 

 

One of the guys that I occasionally run into in the elevator is in the middle of making himself some coffee when I get to the first floor. I vaguely remember seeing him here in the lounge. What I don't remember is his name. I overheard that he's from California like me. There's a distinct burn mark on his left eye. 

 

"You didn't want to go sightseeing?" He looks surprised to see me here. I tell him that I value my alone time more. 

 

"Oh, guess you'll want the room to yourself then," he smiles. "If you want any coffee, I left some in the pot. It's still warm." 

 

"No, you can stay." A part of me is dreading having all this space to myself. Besides, he doesn't seem like a rowdy, noisy asshole like some of the other dorm mates who are thankfully out for the week.  

 

He grabs a second cup of coffee before joining me at one of the tables facing the sofa and TV. "I can't believe we've been living under the same roof for months and I still don't know your name."

 

I accept the mug that I’m offered and respond, "Thanks, I'm Law." 

 

"Sabo.” He scratches at his wavy blonde hair. “So you got any plans for this week or are you going to take advantage of all the alone time you have?" 

 

Good question. Maybe we should hang out. I start to wonder if Shachi is also friend-cheating on me. 

 

"I thought about hitting up some of the bars in Roppongi but I'm still not sure. You?" 

 

Sabo takes a sip from his mug. "I was gonna go see my host family. Haven't seen them in a while." 

 

"You have a host family but you're living in a dorm?" 

 

"Well, this is my—I dunno—fourth time here in Japan? Been in different living situations before but this one hosting experience changed my life. I stay in touch with them because they're really cool." 

 

"Ah." I nod. I've always wanted to do the host family thing but given my loner tendencies, dorm life suits me better. "So you're fluent? In Japanese, I mean." 

 

"I'm better at speaking it than writing it.” 

 

I admit that I've been doing more writing than speaking. "Feels like a wasted effort. All the signs here are bilingual." 

 

Sabo wholeheartedly agrees. He believes that having a host family helped him learn Japanese a lot faster. That and a partner. His girlfriend is from here but she’s currently abroad in Algeria. 

 

I also think that having a partner would be a good way to go about language acquisition but it hasn't worked out for me. Bunch of one night stands so far. 

 

"We could go see my host family today. If you want—no pressure or anything! My host brother is always begging me to bring someone over. He's a people person." 

 

The little coffee that's left has gone cold. We’ve been talking for a while it seems.

 

"Sure,” I accept the open invitation. “Where does your host family stay?" 

 

"Saitama." 

 

Events from last night hit me. Mugiwara lives out in Saitama. Shit! I have to check my messages on SexyVoice. Maybe I received a response.

 

"Huh?" I realize that Sabo had just said something. 

 

"I said they're probably still asleep now. Meet back here around eleven o'clock? Once we get there we can have lunch."

 

I pull my phone out and pretend to be setting a reminder. "Yeahsuretotally." My thumb is actually tapping the screen for the SexyVoice website.

 

Sabo grabs our mugs to go wash them before he retreats to his room. When his back is turned I return my attention to the internet tab that SexyVoice is on. I want to rip my hair out as I'm watching the page load. 

 

One new message from Mugiwara. No text, just an attached file labeled "Asa-dachi (1)." 

 

I fish out and detangle my earbuds. No sooner than plugging them into my phone I'm playing Mugiwara's recording. 

 

First there's silence but it’s followed by a light yawn that's somewhere between sleepy and erotic. Out of the blue Mugiwara gives a small laugh. "You up too, pervert?" 

 

I'm up alright. Before placing the other bud in my other ear, I look around. It's just us. 

 

"Sorry for being so late getting back to you. Had to help my dad clean his house. My brother's here too and we have to share a room so...y'know."  

 

I'm touched that he gives me an explanation but it's not like he owes me one. We're both adults here. Mugiwara continues, "I wanted to listen to you so bad. When I finally got the place to myself I listened to the file you sent me. I like your voice. I've liked it since we talked on the train."

 

Mugiwara doesn't give me time to soak in the flattery. Grunts escape his lips and the throaty sounds that he makes go straight to my cock. 

 

" _Ngh_...I'm so horny right now. Can you touch yourself while listening to me?" He sounds needy, rushed.

 

It’s a tempting request but I decide that I want to sit through this one and just listen. Someone could barge in us, not that I’d care at this point.  

 

Mugiwara is giving me an earful of his voice and I feel complete on a new level. This time is different. All those other posts that he did were probably not meant for anyone in particular. This one, however, is for me. Though we've only met once and haven't spoken to each other in person ever since, it's like I'm right there rolling with him under the covers. 

 

I imagine him lying in bed naked and red-faced yet smiling like he knows something that I don't. Then I fast forward, past the undressing, past the foreplay. Right to the point where we're fucking. Mugiwara's probably doing the same. 

 

"Are you a good cock-sucker? I wanna watch my dick slide in and out of you before I come in your mouth— _mm, fuck…_ ”

 

I close my eyes and lose myself to Mugiwara’s voice like I always have. I'm part of the special species of bottoms that gets off on having a man's cock shoved down their throats. Girls like that are also a nice bonus but in my time here they've been a rarity. Most of them never even made eye contact with me while sucking me off, which is one of the hottest things a person could do. There’s nothing be ashamed of—sex is awesome. 

 

Mugiwara’s moans come to a stop. I hear him whine, "Can I lick you?"

 

My knees start to buckle at the sound of him lacing his fingers with saliva. How many fingers is he using? Two? Three? He’s hungrily shoving them down his mouth while humming with the kind of enthusiasm only a sex-crazed maniac would possess. We could go down on each other, swap cum, and take turns exploring our bodies. In the park, on the train, I don't care who sees. Underground in the dark tunnels or above ground in the light I’d let Mugiwara do whatever he wanted. Despite not laying a finger on myself, I’m close.

“Not yet,” Mugiwara cuts the imaginary fellatio short, much to my disappointment. "You'll come while I'm fucking you. Face down in the pillows screaming as I’m pounding your ass. I'll make you come harder than you ever have before. All over yourself and the sheets." 

 

He punctuates his promise by what I believe is him thrusting his hips. The bed creaks softly. 

 

“You want that too, don’t you? I’d keep going even after you’re filled to the brim. I won’t stop until you’re begging me to.”  

 

A few strokes later and I can hear him announcing his orgasm and howling out swears as that fleeting pleasure consumes him. I trail not too far behind. For the first time in a while, I come without a single touch. It reminds me of the first time I listened to him. 

 

He doesn’t stop with just one go like I thought he would. There’s still a few minutes left of the audio. Mugiwara goes into a frenzy of cries as he’s forcing himself to come again. No dirty talk, only masturbation in its purest form. I can’t decipher anything that he’s saying. It’s incoherent. I delay my trip to the shower so I can absorb every precious second of it. At the end I hear him lazily flipping onto his belly and drifting back to sleep. 

 

"Tired,” Mugiwara mumbles and dives back under what I imagine to be a big warm comforter. I hear his signature goodbye kiss, most likely a wet smack on his hand but I try to visualize it as a real one. The recording ends. 

 

The God-awful mad dash to the showers reminds me why I should stop listening to Mugiwara while I’m seated. I peel my sticky underwear off so I can hop under the spray of water and take care of myself properly. More time than necessary gets spent there for obvious reasons. Supporting my hand against the tiled wall, I replay Mugiwara’s voice in my head. My skin’s all pruny by the time I’m ready to call it quits. 

 

Not sure if I got any studying done. I changed into something fitting for the overcast weather outside. It’s ten till. I wait for Sabo in the lounge while scrolling through Shachi’s facebook page. I shoot him a message but he won’t probably won’t reply until later. That’s fine. 

 

Sabo quietly enters the room with a wave. “Hey, I called and let them know that we’re headed over there. Do you think it’s gonna rain?” 

 

“Probably,” I groan. We grab our umbrellas by the exit. Sabo says that our destination, Kawaguchi Station, is a solid forty-five minute train ride away from Matsudo. I re-listen to Mugiwara's message to me as I'm on the train. 

 

"What kind of music do you like?" Sabo innocently asks me.

 

"Um, I'm more into spoken word."

 

"Oh, that's cool," he says and turns the topic towards his host family. He shows me a photo of a red-haired man with his arm thrown around a young freckled boy. There's a toddler in his other arm. 

 

“This is an old photo. I hate these rental phones that don’t have a lot of space. I usually don’t keep a lot of pics on here.” Sabo apologizes as we transfer from the Joban line to the Keihin Tohoku line. It seems surreal to think of a single father raising kids all by himself in Japan. I mean, those types of family structures exist all over the world so why not here too? 

 

Navigating the suburbs takes us a while. I’m happy that it’s not raining. Don’t want to get wet twice today. Once we finally reach the house, a modestly sized two story, salt fills my nostrils. There’s a ton of it placed in a little bowl near the front door (2). 

 

Sabo rings the doorbell. Immediately the full-grown version of the freckled child from the photo opens the door and invites us in. 

 

He and Sabo bear hug each other and talk about how long it's been since they've been in the same room. I stand there third wheeling. 

 

"Ace, this is Law, he lives in the dorm with me," Sabo gestures for me to introduce myself. I do so hesitantly in Japanese. Ace's face lights up. "Wow my English is rubbish compared to your Japanese! You're a student?"

 

"Yeah, at Tokyo University."

 

Sabo pats Ace’s shoulder. "See? He's smart too."

 

A clash throws us all off guard. I think it came from the kitchen. 

 

“Dad’s trying to do everything by himself again,” Ace mutters. I follow him and Sabo past the serene living room and into the narrow area where someone is cooking. I smell a good home cooked meal.  

 

I have enough composure to not stare at Ace’s Dad, who’s missing an arm. With the remaining one the man bends over to pick up a pan that he just dropped. The red hair confirms that it’s the same person from the photo Sabo had shown me. 

 

“I got it! Don’t worry about this clumsy old man,” He sets the pan on the burner. “I’m mostly done here anyways. Ace, could you get the meat out of the fridge and warm it up?” 

 

A rumbling of footsteps that I initially mistake for an earthquake echo throughout the house. Someone’s hauling ass from upstairs shouting “Meat!!!” Oh, right, there was another kid in the picture.  

 

I turn around to see a familiar pair of sandals and long legs. An even more familiar face. By the time I can register exactly who I'm looking at, my mind goes into shock. 

 

It's Mugiwara. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Morning wood, lit. "morning" and "rise" 
> 
> (2) This practice originates from the Shinto belief that salt purifies the home. Also can be an offering to spirits
> 
>  


	4. Loner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to thank you all for taking the time out to read this story and leave a comment and/or a kudos. I’ve been going back and rehashing this chapter way too many times so I’m just putting it out there for peace of mind. Hope you all like it. I’m glad there are people out there who also think that voice kinks are hot!

Lunch is problematic. 

 

These legs of mine aren't used to sitting cross-legged at such a low table but the food Shanks prepared is worth the discomfort. 

 

No, lunch per se isn’t the problem. 

 

The problem is that I have to sit next to Mugiwara. 

 

 _Luffy_ , as everyone else calls him. 

 

Earlier we did very awkward introductions and tried going about everything like we didn't really know each other. We _don’t_ know each other, at least, not in the traditional sense.

 

Anyway, I'm currently witnessing him wolf down an entire bowl of noodles. Quite the charmer he is. 

 

Sabo, who's sitting across from us, brings up a Marine Studies program that Mugiwara is enrolled in at Tokyo Maritime University. That school isn't far from my own grad school's campus. No wonder we ended up on the same JR line that night. 

 

Talking about ocean exploration seems to bring a glint in Mugiwara's brown eyes. There's more to him than his horny college student persona. This unexpected glimpse into his personal life serves as proof.    

 

I try to take in everything about his appearance that I missed the first time we met. He’s not as scrawny as I thought, I'll give him that. I can see right beneath the red top that he's wearing. What stands out the most is that scar– 

 

“It’s supposed to be sunnier tomorrow,” Shanks, reaching for a pitcher of barley tea, disrupts my observations. “You ever been to Kanagawa, Law?” 

 

“My wife Vivi and I live out there. We run a surfing school together,” Ace grabs the pitcher instead and pours the tea into his father's glass. I say that haven't been there yet but I have heard of the ajisai (1) that bloom in the summer. Sabo seems really keen on having me join them tomorrow.

 

“You look like you could handle the waves out there on the water! Luffy did great his first time surfing.” The blonde turns to Mugiwara, who retorts, “C’mon, that was a long time ago.” 

 

I hear Ace chuckle, “You haven't seen Vivi in a long time either. Remember when you had a crush on her?” 

 

He and Sabo double team their brother in a classic game of “when’s the last time you got laid?” 

 

What kind of girls are Mugiwara's type, I wonder. That green beast rears its ugly head as I imagine if I can compete. I wince at my own reflection in an almost empty plate of sashimi. 

 

My gold piercings. My flaming heart tattoo showing through my v-neck. I’ve had partners who were surprised to see how inked I am. Like I'm in the fucking Yakuza. 

 

The designs on my hands are visible. "Death" is permanently tattooed across both of them. I know, I don't make a very convincing bottom. Compared to Mugiwara, I'm about a head or two taller. Plus I have more muscle mass. Fuck stereotypes. I'd still happily bend over for him. 

 

“How are you enjoying having your own place, Luffy?” Shanks doesn't indulge in the madness Ace and Sabo have started.

 

“It's so-so,” Mugiwara shrugs. “Still getting used to being by myself.”

 

Sabo snickers, “Are you seeing anyone?”

 

It goes quiet. Mugiwara brings a sledgehammer to the silence with, “I don't really have the time.”

 

“Me neither,” I heatedly chime in, drawing eyes from all around the table. For the first time Mugiwara gives me a knowing smile. The gesture ends as quickly as it begins. He returns to stuffing his face.

 

I quickly add, “I'd love to go to Kanagawa.” 

 

Relief hits me when Shanks shares his itinerary for the planned beach trip. The conversation then steers towards whatever Sabo has been up to. Glad that no one's interested in Mugiwara's love life anymore. 

 

I notice him glancing at me more than twice. 

 

By the time all the food is gone, we're sitting around watching TV and drinking Asashi. There’s a trivia segment on a variety show playing. A tipsy Shanks gets all the questions wrong and starts yelling at the screen. It's pretty hilarious. 

 

Ace decides that we should clear the table. I want to pitch in but Sabo tells me not to worry about it. I continue watching a Japanese dub of a movie with him as Shanks and his sons clean everything up. 

 

I'm having a hard time not looking at Mugiwara. He seems to take more time than necessary to reach over for my empty plates. Could just be my imagination.

 

“Lots of cute girls hang out at the beach by the way," Sabo throws a harpoon into my daydream.

 

I mumble “Can't wait,” like I give a shit–I don't–as I look at the time on my phone. We've been here for hours now. We literally ate lunch and dinner. 

 

Shanks appears in the doorway. “You both should sleep over! Luffy, did you finish the laundry? We're gonna need extra blankets tonight.” 

 

I ask Sabo where the bathroom is so I don't have to be in the same room as Mugiwara again when he emerges from the kitchen. Sabo points upstairs. Quickly I climb up to the second floor. Lots of framed photos hang in the hallway. 

 

There’s one of a younger Mugiwara and Ace at Huntington Beach. They've been to California. A few times it seems. It's odd knowing that at one point we were in the same state at the same time.

 

I don't even need to use the bathroom. Just wanted space to breathe away from Mugiwara. In the bathroom I count the tiles and think about going to the beach. It’s not something I’d normally do. A day with Mugiwara and his family does sound nice, however. 

 

Guess I should wash my hands while I'm in here. The water turns warm as it runs along my wrists. White noise is always calming. I think of Mugiwara’s voice and the first time I heard it. How I felt drawn to him, how my body reacted. Now it's a thousand times worse. Mugiwara in person, without my earphones or the static of his microphone, is acoustic torture. No barriers, no protection. It's raw and— _hot_ —hot! “Dammit!” 

 

The water is scalding hot. I withdraw, wincing in pain. Turning off the faucet, I fail to spot any towels for drying. I go back towards the stairwell wiping my burned palms on my jeans. This is his fault.

 

Speak of the devil, he's coming up the steps right now. 

 

“Hey, I forgot to put out clean towels! I’ll get one for you,” Mugiwara offers. 

 

I follow him into a nearby room with two futons. This must be where he recorded himself earlier. The image of him on one of the beds jacking off, face up with his back arched and eyes closed, paints my mental canvas. An unsuspecting Ace was probably sound asleep close by. 

 

Mugiwara slides the door closed so that the “AC doesn't get out” and fetches a nautical themed towel from a stack of clean clothes in the corner. Laundry detergent and fabric softener hit my nose. It's like everything has been coated in Febreze. 

 

“Here ya go!” He's so campy I bet he could vomit a fucking rainbow. Drop the act, it's just us now.  

 

"Thanks," my hands are already dry but I humor him. 

 

There he goes staring at me.  

 

“Darvish," Mugiwara taps his own chin. "That's who you remind me of!"

 

I become very much aware of my goatee. 

 

"He's a baseball player." Mugiwara educates me on the Japanese-Iranian athlete through an image search on his iPhone. We don't look that much alike. Whatever. 

 

On the home screen I identity the "4 mugiwara" file that I sent him a few days ago.

 

“So you’ve been to California before?” I question, pretending to not see it. 

 

“Lots of times! Never needed to speak English there,” he reminisces. “Everyone spoke Japanese to me. Yours is really good, by the way. Do you get the chance to speak it a lot?”

 

 “Not really.”

 

“Well I imagine it’s difficult in Tokyo because everyone speaks English.”

 

No kidding. “I only hear Japanese when I'm listening to you on SexyVoice.”

 

I wasn’t supposed to mention that. Fuck me. 

 

Mugiwara blinks, "Do you listen to me every day?"

 

I've already dug myself in a hole. What do I have to lose? 

 

The recordings on my phone and on my laptop. All the folders and playlists, meticulously labelled. The bulky archive containing hours of him talking, masturbating, laughing, pretending. I bare those secrets. 

 

It's a huge weight off my shoulders. 

 

I don't expect Mugiwara's demeanor to transform into something borderline accusatory. “Wait, you save those things? You really are a pervert.” 

 

“Can you _please_ stop calling me that!” I become visibly flustered. 

 

He grins, “You're really cute when you get angry!”

 

"Fuck you!" I blurt out in English. 

 

“I like it when you swear!”

 

I'm close to losing it. Incredibly close. “Can you say that you're flattered or something? It's like this is all some big joke!”

 

“It's not a joke!” Mugiwara frowns. “I never talk to anyone on that site.”

 

He fiddles with the yellow button on his top. “People message me but I never reply. I just liked hiding behind a voice and a fake name. When you called me out on the train, I realized how long I'd been running away from actual human connection.” 

 

Human connection. I'm practically an expert at avoiding it. Hell, I've become afraid of it.

 

Mugiwara speaks up. “Sometimes I want to be with someone but...I can't. Maybe it's a trust issue. Maybe I prefer being lone–”

 

“Sabishigari-ya,” The word slips out on impulse as I stare intently at the floor.

 

“Heh, yeah,” the sadness in his laughter is new. It's more of a sigh. Instinctively I want to hold him. I don't. It'll ruin things. 

 

“Mugiwara, I can leave you alone if you want me to.”

 

He looks me in the eye, “I don't want you to. I like you. Since we met, all I can think about is being with you.”

 

To be on the receiving end of a confession—I'm not ready for it. There's no option to pause. Nothing to hide behind. Right here in front of Mugiwara, I can't control how fast my heart beats. 

 

I can’t control my hands as they grab Mugiwara by his hair and bring his lips to mine. 

 

What the hell am I doing? I break away apologizing but Mugiwara pulls me back in to initiate our second kiss. 

 

It lasts much longer.

 

My eyes shut and I moan into his mouth more loudly than intended. Mugiwara places his fingers into my hair. “You sound fucking beautiful,” he wraps his arms around my shoulders. “Keep making noises like that.”

 

He combs through my strands as the kissing grows feverish. I'm already _very_ hard by the time curiosity leads one of Mugiwara's hands to the zipper of my jeans.

 

“All we did was kiss,” somewhere between surprised and impressed, he gazes up at me. “You pervert.”

 

I shudder when he puts his lips to my ear, “Can I touch you?”

 

My eager nod doesn't satisfy as an answer. Mugiwara tilts my chin towards him. 

 

“Say touch me,” he insists. “I want to hear you.” 

 

His fingers sneak past my denim and scratch lightly at the sensitive flesh inside my boxers. 

 

I lower my voice, “Please touch me.”

 

“Like this?” he uncovers my dick and feels along every inch. Given the circumstances, I'm trying to not react strongly to the pleasant tingling engulfing me. Only a single "ah" slips past my defenses.

 

“These walls are thin–” I caution, remembering that everyone else is downstairs. 

 

“But you were basically doing the same thing in a restroom at that train station, remember?” Mugiwara rises on the balls of his feet to tickle my earlobe with the tip of his tongue. He even licks between my piercings. “Were you thinking about me when you recorded yourself?”

 

“Yes,” I confirm, reliving that moment. God it was such a rush. “I was imagining you with me. On the train.”

 

His free hand returns to my scalp to massage it gently. “And I was fucking you, right?” A small kiss on my neck, my collarbone. 

 

I'm going dizzy and dripping. I can tell that I'm coating Mugiwara's hand.  

 

“Right?” he forces me to nod. Our noses touch. “Even if someone saw us, you'd let me keep going?” 

 

My eyes roll into the back of my head at the mere thought. Maybe Mugiwara is onto something about me being a pervert. I hum as he rubs my slit. He’s gentle yet I know he's impatient. It's like he wants me to cum where I'm standing.

 

“Not going to last much longer if you keep that up,” I weakly complain. Mugiwara uses my sticky pre-cum to try and increase the speed of his strokes. There's not much leeway since my jeans are still on. He lets go of me to focus on shoving my jeans and boxers below my thighs. Cool air nips at my skin but rises in temperature as Mugiwara takes hold of my erection again. 

 

His other hand creeps up the front of my sweater to scrape my nipple. The sensation sends me thrashing. Much more than a single syllable escapes my throat as a result. “You like this, huh?” Mugiwara delivers a second flick of my nipple.

 

He removes my sweater entirely. No sooner than that he's back to pumping my dick and dragging his tongue along my chest. I cry out, angling myself to increase the friction. “That feels good...” I toss my head back and groan.  Now I sound like those people in those videos I used to watch. 

 

“Get against the wall,” Mugiwara firmly shoves me backwards. Hard to walk in reverse with my clothes around my ankles but luckily the wall is less than a step behind me. 

 

I can't stay mad at him, not when he starts stripping in front of me. Mugiwara removes the pair of blue shorts that he has on. A blatant outline of his dick shows through his underwear. I lick my lips in anticipation. 

 

He fumbles with the buttons of his top before tossing it to the floor. I watch his thick cock spring out and smack against his navel. I remember seeing things like that in pornos. Never thought much of it back then. Watching Mugiwara do this, however, is probably the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen. 

 

Scratch that. Him slowly touching himself is the hottest thing I've ever seen. 

 

It doesn't take long to get his creamy pre-cum spilling over. My first thought is how much I want to lap it up. Thirsty doesn’t even begin to describe how I’ve felt these past few weeks. I’m fucking parched. 

 

He catches my suggestive stare. Instead of letting me get down on my knees to do what I do best, Mugiwara brings a few milky drops for me to taste. No hesitation. An unfamiliar flavor confronts my palette. It's like alcohol. I want more because of what it does to me, not how it tastes.

 

I make a show of swallowing what I've captured. Mugiwara's reaction doesn't disappoint. He roughly grips my hair and turns me around so I'm facing the wall. The impact echoes throughout the room and possibly the whole house but I don't care. 

 

My ass is exposed, my hole quivering in excitement for Mugiwara's dick to tear me apart. My forehead hits the wall. Mugiwara's only teasing by skirting his head around my entrance.

 

At last, he moves closer to me and I can feel him slip inside. Once he's past the first ring, I forget about the discomfort. He's more than wet enough to go deeper. 

 

“Fuck!” I cry out when he finally reaches the switch within me that makes has my mind seeing stars, planets, the whole damn cosmos. Inadvertently I end up pushing him further into me, causing my own dick to bounce in response. I slam my hands against the wall that's holding me up for support. 

 

Maybe he thinks he's hurting me because the pressure lightens. “Don't stop,” the level of neediness in my plea renders my voice foreign. “I won't,” he whispers while placing quick pecks along my spine. 

 

“Law,” Mugiwara presses his forehead against my neck. His vocal cords elicit vibrations along my body. He has a tight hold on my hips. Despite the many, many times I've done this, I can't brace myself. We're both panting, welcoming the steep lift before the blissful fall. 

 

Mugiwara slides himself out slow only to re-enter with force. I turn into a mess of expletives. My string of curses only encourage him. He sets a rhythm that involves alternating between laying into me and jerking me off.  

 

If that's how he wants to do things, I'm not going to object, but what brings me to the gravity of my climax, more than anything, is the way he's talking me into it. Sure, him impaling me is heavenly, but I'm much more interested in the earful I'm getting out of him. My own excitement rides on the waves of Mugiwara's vocals.

 

Our next few kisses are messy clashes of tongues and teeth. We're even more off center as he starts losing our rhythm and fucking me at random intervals. I'm glad that he never loses precision despite how close we are to the end. It’s like he’s known my body forever. 

 

Concentrating on holding my hips steady and stopping my head from thumping against the wall proves difficult. Even the floorboards creak. All our cries and curses blend together into a breathless exchange of words. The way he says my name only ties my heart in more knots. 

 

“Law, I’m gonna cum,” Mugiwara’s forehead collides with the space between my shoulder blades. He provides me with desperate strokes but I don't need them. I'm already shooting into his hand. The entire time I shout his name until my throat goes hoarse. He bites down on my skin as I’m filled with his ropy cum. 

 

Even as aftershocks ripple through me, Mugiwara moves again. The evidence of our first session overflows and streams down the back of my legs. I feel fucking filthy and I love it. 

 

We finish together on the second go. And the third. By the fourth time, it takes all my remaining strength to keep standing. 

 

The timer on the AC unit goes off and an energy-saving setting takes over. Japan’s environmentally conscious technology cuts the background noise out of the room. Mugiwara and I easily hear the voices of everybody else downstairs. And footsteps.  

 

None of them seem to be coming up to the second floor, fortunately. Though wobbly, I manage to remain on my two feet as Mugiwara slumps against me. 

 

“You’re heavy,” I mumble into his arm, which he has thrown over my shoulder like a scarf. It tastes like the sea.

 

“Sorry,” Mugiwara heaves himself up. We move about the room like zombies, working to get ourselves presentable. Incidentally Mugiwara ends up with more laundry to take care of. 

 

I’m handed clothes that might fit me. I slip them on and make a note to shower later. Mugiwara leans in to steal yet another kiss. It starts out simple but gets a little too erotic.

 

“Alright, that's enough. I'm not doing this again,” I playfully push him away. 

 

“Right, we have to save our energy for the train tomorrow.” 

 

What? I can't tell if he's joking. 

 

“Luffy! You in here?” Ace slides the door open. “I need a towel. Gonna go swimming.” Mugiwara's brother staggers in drunk. 

 

Sabo bursts in afterwards, equally shit-faced. “What're you two doing in here? We heard noises downstairs!”

 

“C'mon, Sabo, they're just, they're just–” Ace hiccups. He goes on about needing to catch the big wave or set the ocean on fire or something. 

 

From the other side of the door I can hear Shanks slurring, “Where the _hell_ is my arm?”

 

Safe to say I think everyone was too busy drinking to notice what we had been doing. It's like it never happened. 

 

But it did happen. I count the red bruises on my tattoo in the bathroom mirror after everyone's asleep. I replay everything in my head as I shower. 

 

I go back into the room we're all sleeping in. The lights are off. Mugiwara's asleep on his futon. Sabo and Ace are snoring on the floor. Shanks is on the other futon. I shimmy back into my space. A few seconds later Mugiwara pokes me through my covers.

 

“Law,” Mugiwara whispers into the darkness. “Come sleep with me.” 

 

“Aren’t you worried about how we’ll look in the morning?” I sleepily mumble. 

 

“Just say you were drunk and thought I was a girl,” Mugiwara yawns. 

 

I give in, getting up to lie down beside Mugiwara's warm body. He places my arm around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world to do. 

 

Habit forces me to reach for my phone to listen to Mugiwara. Then I realize he's right here. I don't need to imagine him anymore. 

 

I sleep peacefully that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Hydrangeas


	5. Stay (Pt. I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it to the end! So much in my life has changed (for the better!) since I first started writing this. 
> 
> From the bottom of my perverted heart I want to say THANK YOU to all the people who took the time out to read this!!!
> 
> It was nice getting to share what I've learned about Japan with you all! Everyone’s feedback has pushed me to keep writing. 
> 
> So my first draft was about twenty pages. Since that's longer than usual for this fic, I decided to split this chapter up into two parts! Second part is pretty much done in my head I just gotta get the words out. 
> 
> Alright, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year ya pervs! On with the story!!

“How was your Golden Week?” Shachi swipes his JR pass at the turnstile.

 

“Good.” I hide a smile. “Yours?”

 

“Didn't do much. It was nice though.”

 

Every seat on the train is already taken by the time Shachi and I board. We hold onto the handrails and sway as the train rocks. I remember being in Kanagawa. Riding waves with Mugiwara.

 

Riding Mugiwara. 

 

Now it's Friday. I run into Shachi on my way to the train station. We decide to catch a ride home together since we haven't hung out all week. 

 

Shachi explains that he's been seeing someone. That makes sense. He didn't respond to a single message I sent him during the break.

 

“So what about loner culture?” I reference our previous conversation with a smirk. 

 

He retorts, “I still like my alone time. I like being with my girlfriend too.”

 

Well, that's two less lonely people in the world. Good for him.

 

On the other hand, I've been putting more time into my lab work since I got back from the holidays. If I stay busy, I don't think about…

 

I stayed at Mugiwara's place a lot. At night we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. In the day we went out exploring every corner of Tokyo. 

 

Mugiwara once dragged me to Akihabara. We took purikura (1), did some sightseeing. I thought that these outings were planned, like everything else in my life, but Mugiwara simply acted on a whim.

 

When Golden Week ended, so did the spontaneity. It was back to boring school for me. Back to both school and work for Mugiwara. 

 

At the dorms, I still run into Sabo, who is none the wiser about our "relationship." 

 

I don't want to bother Mugiwara while he's at work so I hardly ever text. I'm too busy studying to call at night anyway. 

 

The train screeches to a halt. Shachi is rambling on about his new girlfriend. 

 

This isn't my stop. 

 

It's Mugiwara's. 

 

“See you next week,” I hurriedly get off to transfer. 

 

Watching me exit, Shachi points out, “This is Ikebukuro. Shouldn't you transfer at Nippori to get to Matsudo?” 

 

“Taking a different route today.” I wave goodbye. This station on a Friday night is full of club-goers and tourists. Normally I'm one of them. Tonight, however, I get on the Saitama-bound Saikyō line. 

 

Really, I don't have a reason to show up at Mugiwara's apartment unannounced. I just want to see him. Even though we arranged to meet on a day that works for our schedules like organized, coordinated adults.

 

But I don't want to be organized. I'm fed up with having plans. 

 

It's been this way since I started school, since my father put me in advanced classes. Nothing exciting or stimulating. Everything laid out. To hell with that. 

 

Sometimes the intellectual in me just wants to be fucked stupid. 

 

I message Mugiwara so I don't show up at his place and he's not there.

 

_Hey, I'm on the Saikyō line_

 

My heart leaps into my throat when Mugiwara responds, _Me too! Got off work early today_

 

I glance around. No one remotely resembling Mugiwara is here. I move a few cars down until I reach one that’s deserted. Another message. 

 

_Turn around_

 

Behind me the car door slides open. I hear Mugiwara's sandals slapping against his heels. Today he’s in blue jeans and a red T-shirt. He looks tired. 

 

“Hey,” the door automatically shuts behind him. “I thought we were only gonna meet up on Sundays. Your studies—”

 

“I know.” I'm a little embarrassed that I broke our agreement. 

 

Mugiwara slumps into one of the train seats. “I texted Sabo. He said you've been coming back to the dorms really late at night.”

 

“You're having him keep tabs on me?”

 

“No, no, it's not like that,” Mugiwara sits up. “I just know that you're busy with school. Instead of texting you, I ask him how you're doing.”  

 

That’s thoughtful. Or maybe we’ve both been dodging each other on purpose.

 

“How are you?” I play it smooth but the damn train is making it hard for me to plant my feet. I move to stand right between Mugiwara's knees. We haven’t talked face to face for some time. I'm nervous. My palms start slipping from the handrail.

 

Mugiwara looks up at me and spreads his legs apart, inviting me to position myself closer. “I'm not sleeping well at night.”

 

“Me neither,” I mumble. “I stay up all night studying.”

 

“You know what I stay up at night doing?” He beckons me with one finger. I get down on my knees slowly. As the train rattles, I grip Mugiwara's thighs for support. Cautiously, I lean forward. 

 

“What?”

 

Mugiwara smiles, “Thinking about you. How your voice sounds.”

 

He could have just called. Right, right, the whole “put your studies first” bullshit. There's that recording of me but I imagine he's numb to it. Hearing each other in real-time is so much better. 

 

Out of curiosity, I glance down to see if our exchange is having any effect on him. It’s certainly having one on me. Mugiwara shifts. I recognize the signs. I’m not alone in my predicament.

 

“You're gonna make it worse if you keep staring.” Mugiwara bites his bottom lip while sinking into the seat further. His movements move my hands up. A welcoming heat embraces my knuckles. Before my hands melt off, I hurry and unfasten the top button to Mugiwara’s jeans.

 

He doesn't hesitate to lift off the seat. I drag his clothes down to his thighs so I can see that meaty cock again. It’s already hard. 

 

Mugiwara digs his nails into my shoulders. He doesn’t do any shoving. Just light urging. 

 

“Law, wet it with your mouth...” 

 

I move in to run my lips along every thick inch. At the tip I coyly flick my tongue, making Mugiwara tremble. The salty taste of his skin reminds me of the beach. I lap at his slit a few more times to draw out bittersweet pre-cum. He’s getting restless. 

 

I like this. 

 

“Stop teasing!”

 

“Fuck you,” I chuckle. He gets this hot look on his face. Sometimes you see someone at the right angle and it’s absolute magic. 

 

I take Mugiwara all the way in. Through the tears stinging my eyes I stare up at Mugiwara’s half-lidded ones. Every breath he takes is labored. He's tightly gripping the seat and thrusting forward. I know that I have to be quick about this but I can't resist eating up the view. 

 

Hearing him swear. 

 

Seeing his muscles twitch. 

 

He knows that I’m watching him. We’re both going to hell for this. 

 

His voice is somewhere between commanding and comforting when he moans, “Make me cum,” Mugiwara doesn't have to coax me into taking him in deeper. I'm already swallowing as much as I can. If I wasn’t working under pressure, I’d take my time. 

 

I forcefully grab onto his hips and push him completely past my tongue. My lips aren't even at the hilt when a squirt of cum hits the back of my throat. It’s warm.  

 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Mugiwara twists my hair in his fist. The pain dissolves as he tugs harder and harder, motivating me to take more of his hot cum. Over the sound of the train galloping along the tracks, I hear the pulsating noise of my own hungry gulps. My head moves back and forth, saliva and jizz spilling down my chin. 

 

Mugiwara's hand moves to the back of my neck. “You like this, don't you? Me ramming my cock down your throat. _Slut_ ,”

 

I expect him to call me a pervert per usual but he's occupied with working my jaw for all it's worth. I'm sure that my own dick is threatening to explode. I imagine our time running out like grains in an hourglass. How long before our next stop? Mugiwara picks this moment to pull me out of my logical thinking. 

 

“You're such a good cock-sucker,” he resumes fucking my face so hard that I can't even see anymore. Not that I need to. Listening to his loud moans. There’s no melody or rhythm to it. It’s raw, sexy. There’s something about doing this here. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on before. Not since I made that recording for Mugiwara. Maybe it’s because I know that at any moment someone could walk in on us. 

 

After he fills my belly with cum, I want him to throw me on one of these seats, mash my face against the window, and pound me till I'm screaming. I don't care who sees us. I'm getting so worked up that my hands wrap around his back to add emphasis to our rhythm.   

 

Mugiwara's cries crescendo. He weakly pushes on my arms. “Go s-slower,”

 

I'm not convinced that he wants me to slow down.

 

I swirl my tongue around his creamy cockhead before sucking much faster. My act of defiance earns me strangled grunts and loads of juicy cum. I swallow greedily, even going as far as trying to milk out more. It’s not about the taste as much as it’s about looking like the cock-whore that he turns me into. 

 

Quivering, Mugiwara collapses into his seat. He crouches down to lick my lips. Then he uses his finger to gently pry my mouth open. “Did you save any for me?” 

 

I freeze in confusion as he darts his tongue past my teeth. Had no idea Mugiwara liked that sort of thing. It makes my own cock twitch. We share the remnants of his orgasm in a snowball kiss. 

 

“You like tasting yourself?” Dirty talk aside, I’m genuinely asking.

 

Mugiwara nods. “You don't?”

 

I _do._ Hell, just thinking about it has me ready to bust my balls.

 

He cups the space where my own arousal is starting to show. 

 

“Shit,” I jolt. 

 

“We've still got another stop to go,” he stands and grabs hold of the railing. His dick isn't getting any softer. “I wonder how we should pass the time.”

 

I tilt my head upwards. “I have an idea.”

 

The train stops. Doors open, allowing sticky, humid air to flood in. One or two passengers get off a few cars down. They pay no attention to us. No one else boards. 

 

Mugiwara gets me into position before the train takes off again. As I fantasized, my forehead is pressed against the cool glass. I’m holding on to the plastic train seat. Mugiwara steadies himself by placing his arms on either side of me. I watch his hands tense and relax. My pants are pulled halfway down my thighs, the same way as when we first hooked up. I know what’s to come and yet I’m still excited. He's not going to prep me but I anticipate little friction given how his dick is drenched in my spit and his cum. 

 

Once the car moves, he slides into me. His whole self. 

 

“Ah—”

 

My breath fogs up the window as a deep, throaty moan rolls out from my vocal cords. 

 

“I didn't know you could make sounds like that,” Mugiwara pulls out until only his head is inside. “If I do it again?” 

 

He slams forward. I yell out a few colorful words that revs Mugiwara up even more. Again and again, I'm being slammed into so ruthlessly that my vision gets spotty. I can't close my mouth, supplying Mugiwara with words of encouragement.

 

“Ah! H-harder...”

 

“What? I can't hear you,” Mugiwara turns my head so my words are no longer muffled. “Speak up.”

 

“Fuck me harder,”

 

Still not satisfied, Mugiwara goes still. “Louder.”

 

My hips move automatically to keep the rhythm going. Mugiwara awards my initiative with no-holds-barred fucking. He yanks my hair back far enough that my body bends in a direction that unites his dick in perfect harmony with my weak spot. I yell out something unintelligible but I’m too fucking gone to care what’s being said. 

 

The outbursts bounce off the walls of the car. When it hits my ears I can't believe the way I sound. I’m used to being on the other end with women, some going delightfully batshit as I fuck them. It’s difficult to replicate that with guys because the ones I’ve been with just weren’t into noisy bottoms. 

 

Either way, Mugiwara is so happy with my performance that he gives me a reach around. Not like I need one to finish. 

 

I haven't touched myself since I was with him last. The familiar tingling sensation shuts down my train of thought. I go off the rails. I’m flying but falling. A tidal wave knocks me down, holds me in a grip that prevents me from floating. It’s not unlike drowning. All I feel now is Mugiwara, striking the deepest parts of me. I remember to breathe. To live. 

 

And there I am floating. Drifting along the sea as it caresses my skin. Another wave comes but I don’t fear it. This time I’ll let it take me. When it does, all my energy gushes out of me. I’m screaming. Not Mugiwara’s name. Just, something between _ah_ and _fuck_. 

 

Mugiwara brings his hand up to my mouth. Each finger slips into my mouth the same way his cock is still entering my hole. In and out, in and out. 

 

I’m gonna cum…

 

Arching my back, I beg Mugiwara to not stop even if I cum. He tells me he won’t and I start spurting into his hand. Some of it drips on the seat, on my pants. It’s a lot.  

 

“I’m not stopping, remember?” He spreads my ass cheeks and fucks me even _deeper_. The sparks he’s sending up my spine force me to cry out until my voice goes hoarse. Mugiwara only continues for a few more seconds before he too dives into his own release. I grab the seat for balance so I swim in our ocean just a little longer.

 

Walking to his place like this is gonna be a bitch.  

 

I go “oof!” when Mugiwara suddenly hugs me from behind.

 

“You were so cute!”

 

Geez, the sex is over. We don't have to flirt with each other anymore. I'm still getting my bearings together so I don't shrug him off immediately. Actually, this is kinda nice. But we’re not in his bedroom. We’re on a train. 

 

Our stop is next. Mugiwara uses a pack of tissue that he carries around to erase any evidence of our indecency. We hold the wads of bodily fluids in half shock, half disgust. There’s not enough tissue to cover up the mess we made. So grateful that he lives nearby. I could really use a shower.

 

The layout of Mugiwara's apartment is simple. His place isn’t that much bigger than my dorm but it's much cozier. I remember there being a model ship and a straw hat in the living room. A small bookcase filled with manga and action figures.  

 

Once the door closes I pull him into a kiss. I wanted to be back here more than anything. I have to make this last as long as our lungs will allow. Mugiwara reminds me that we need to get clean. 

 

“I have an extra toothbrush,” he gives me an unopened packet once we're done showering. 

 

“Thanks.” I join him in front of his bathroom mirror. We brush our teeth in silence. Not an awkward silence. It’s a sweet one.  

 

I follow him into the bedroom. On the wall near his bed I see our purikura pinned above his pillow. 

 

My heart. 

 

It did some weird tightening thing just now.

 

I'll have to look into a diagnosis later. 

 

Mugiwara brings me a fresh pair of clothes. He realizes what I'm looking at. 

 

“Oh, I didn't expect to have company so I haven't really cleaned this place!” Mugiwara fumbles to reach the photo. 

 

“Keep it there.” I stop him.

 

Mugiwara pauses. “Um, did you want something to drink? I have pocari.” 

 

I nod, “Sure. Anything’s fine.” I’m still looking at the photo even when he hands me a cold bottle from the fridge. We settle on his bed and watch TV. 

 

During a commercial break he asks, “When did you know that you were...interested in guys as well as girls?”

 

We’ve discussed my sexuality already. It was brief and to the point. This random question catches me off guard. “Oh, uh, so my uncle—”

 

He almost gasps, “Seriously!?”

 

“Will you let me finish? I was just gonna say that he was the only gay person that I knew growing up.”

 

His mouth clamps shut only to open again. “You’re the first guy I’ve been with.”

 

While we’re asking each other questions, I figure I should give him one too. “Are you still going out with girls then?” 

 

Mugiwara shakes his head. 

 

“You still can if you want. We're not _official_ or anything.” 

 

Why the _fuck_ did I say that?

 

“Official,” Mugiwara tastes the word. “Do you count what we did on the train as official?”

 

I count that as _fun_. That's what all of this has been. If I let it go into something further, I don't know what will happen. I don't know how to convey this to Mugiwara. 

 

He plays with my hand. “It's just you, Law. I've been with girls but it never went anywhere. Had a girlfriend. She dumped me. That's why I started SexyVoice actually.”

 

Our fingers are intertwined. Whatever variety show we were watching comes back on. 

 

“Do you think you’ll still post?” I lie back, wetting the sheets with my hair, still damp from the shower. 

 

Mugiwara stares down at me. A droplet falls from his split end and unto his arm. I follow its journey to his wrist where it’ll probably dry. “Of course not!”

 

I glance at the photo on his wall. Just say that you don't want to lose whatever this is. Don’t compromise. 

 

“Do you listen to other people on that site?” Mugiwara plays with the button on his pajama top. 

 

I remind him about my confession from two weeks ago. I meant what I said. I’m hooked on him and him alone. 

 

Mugiwara turns the TV off. He lies back with me and drapes his leg over mine. Body heat has never felt so nice. Slowly I drift off to sleep but my uncertainty keeps me tethered to reality. 

 

 _Tell_ him. 

 

“Hey, we should be together,” I whisper. In English, so he doesn’t understand me. Yeah, I know, I chickened out. 

 

“Hm?” Mugiwara nuzzles against my neck. “Could you repeat that, please?” He pleads in English. It sounds rehearsed. Sabo probably taught him that phrase. It’s not fair how adorable this idiot’s voice is. 

 

I bring our lips together before telling Mugiwara to forget what I said. Eventually, we both give up on remaining awake. In the morning, I promise myself. I’ll ask him in the morning if he wants this to be a serious thing. Right now, I want to rest.

  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

In the morning I wake up alone. Mugiwara left a note. 

 

 _Went to work. Made you breakfast! See you later. Don’t eat my burger_ ヾ(▼ﾍ▼；)

 

He left me tamagoyaki (2) on his counter/table. I sit in silence eating it. My phone. It’s probably in my soiled pants. I go to retrieve it and notice that there’s a message waiting for me. 

 

It’s from Mugiwara and there’s an attachment. 

 

I go back to my breakfast and play the file. He’s narrating his commute. I hear the train in the background. 

 

“I can’t believe we did _it_ on the train. I’ve never done that before,” he speaks into the mic so no one around him can hear. I laugh so hard that I choke. I down some tap water to prevent death. 

 

The rest goes on just like all of Mugiwara’s nonsexual recordings. I can picture him waiting for a train on the platform. On Saturday mornings the station isn’t as packed. 

 

It goes quiet for a while but eventually, Mugiwara says, “I understood what you said last night,” 

 

I stop cold. Suddenly the walls of the apartment start closing in. A wiser version of myself would have turned off the recording then and there. 

 

But I stupidly keep going. 

 

Mugiwara sighs, “Law, I—”

 

 _Oi, Luffy!_  

 

Where’s that coming from? I jump out of my chair. There’s an intercom by the front door. That’s Shanks's voice. He’s trying to buzz in. 

 

_Luffy! I know you’re up there. The lights are on. Stop ignoring your old man!_

 

Shit. Doesn’t he know Mugiwara’s work schedule? I am _not_ prepared for this. Do nothing. Maybe he’ll go away. 

 

_Did you forget that I was stopping by today? Geez, Luffy._

 

I hear someone else’s voice politely greeting Shanks. 

 

_Coby-kun! Could you let me in? Luffy’s asleep or something…_

 

A loud buzzing sound follows. 

 

So this is how I die. 

 

In no time Shanks is opening the door. No doubt he has a spare key. I have nowhere to hide. 

 

“Luffy? You alright?” Alert, the red head tiptoes inside. 

 

We make eye contact.

 

“Oh, good morning!” Shanks closes the door. He takes a quick look around the place. “So Luffy went to work, huh?” 

 

I stand up straight. “Uh, yes, he already left.” 

 

He yawns, “We were gonna go visit Ace and Vivi today. Do you want to come along? I could drive to Matsudo and pick up Sabo too.” 

 

What? Am I dreaming or something? 

 

“You’re not going to ask me why I’m here?” 

 

Shanks furrows his brow at me. “No. Why? Aren’t you and Luffy dating?” 

 

My jaw literally hits the floor. I mean, we’re not really _dating_ necessarily but if that’s what—wait, who the _hell_ told Shanks? 

 

“H-how did you…?”

 

“I know my son, OK? Our spirits are connected.” Shanks holds a hand to his heart. I almost buy it until he bursts out laughing. “Just fucking with ya—I heard you two fooling around that night you stayed over. I’m missing an arm, not an ear.” 

 

Ah, well then. 

 

“We’re not dating,” I try to clarify. 

 

Shanks opens the fridge to grab some food. He goes for the leftover hamburger.“What are you two then? _Sefure_ (3)?”

 

“I don’t know…” 

 

“Don't think about it if you don't want to. C'mon, let's go.”

 

I sit in the passenger's seat sneaking glances at my phone. The recording from Mugiwara was stopped. I want to hear the rest. 

 

Shanks isn't interested in talking about himself. He is chock-full of questions for me about my family, my plans for my student visa here in Japan. I don't share any more than what I already have with Mugiwara. My parents, the schools I went to, how long I’ve been studying Japanese. Normal chitchat. I watch him maneuver the steering wheel effortlessly. On the radio, I hear that it’s going to be a sunny day. 

 

When we stop by the dorms to pick up Sabo, I ask to sit and wait. Shanks leaves me alone in the car. I turn the volume of my phone all the way up and hit play on Mugiwara’s recording.  

 

“...know how important it is to be alone. Being with people is so important too. My dad is a hundred years old and he's _still_ finding the balance—shoot, he might come by my place today. Get out while you can!”

 

The sound of a train arriving drowns out his playful laughter.

 

It ends. No hint given at where the hell our relationship is going. 

 

I replay the recording at least a hundred times before Sabo and Shanks show up. At this point, it’s safe to assume that they both know why I was at Mugiwara’s place last night. 

 

The drive to Kanagawa isn’t too long. Another day of surfing at Ace’s and Vivi’s school. They both seem so happy together. It’s a little weird but I start to wonder what kind of people they were before they got married. The kind of partners they had before they had each other. Does it matter? 

 

The sun is setting. From the little shack that serves as the surfing school’s office, I behold the scenery. I should message Mugiwara. 

 

_Shanks ate your burger_

 

No response.

 

It’s OK, he’s at work. He’ll respond later. 

 

Later comes and still nothing. What time does his shift end?

 

I return to the shores. Shanks is out there surfing with Ace. If I could have a better relationship with my father, would it look like that? Nah, we’ll never be close. 

 

Sabo’s running to me kicking sand everywhere. He’s upset about something. At first, I laugh at his flustered switching back and forth between English and Japanese. Then I hear the words. 

 

Train accident. 

 

Luffy. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Photo booths where you edit photos to look cutesy and stuff  
> (2) Rolled omelette  
> (3) FWB/Sex Friends


	6. Stay (Pt. II)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, major ohisashibooty to everyone! 
> 
> I started my own business a few months ago and took on some big projects for the new year without thinking about how time-consuming they'd be. I'm also learning a lot (fucking up) so writing this is such a stress reliever! 
> 
> Sorry if it's super sappy. It's the last chapter just let me have this *cries*
> 
> Enjoy!

Train accident? 

 

Ace washes up on the shore on top of his surfing board. He immediately notices that something’s off and runs up to me and Sabo. 

 

“Luffy said he was transferring to the Odakyu line,” Sabo shows us the messages that he had sent. The time stamp is two hours old. 

 

Mugiwara should have been in Kanagawa by now. 

 

Vivi and Shanks approach, questioning looks on their faces. 

 

“One of the JR trains derailed,” Ace explains, having pulled up a live news report on his own phone. 

 

The text I sent Mugiwara hasn’t been read yet. Panic settles in. 

 

Sabo starts dashing off the beach. Sand flies everywhere. 

 

“Where are you going?” Shanks races after him. I listen to Ace and Vivi debate whether or not looking for Mugiwara would even help. Disaster unfolding in slow motion. 

 

“What good would driving to Tokyo do?” Vivi cries. 

 

Ace retaliates, “Anything is better than standing around and doing nothing!”   

 

That’s what I gather from their argument. They're not speaking standardized Japanese but a dialect with which I’m not very familiar. The back and forth between them makes me want to cover my ears. 

 

I don’t like to hear things like this. To cut through their bickering, I offer, “I can stay just in case.”  

 

Ace suddenly remembers that I’m right here. He's slightly embarrassed that I witnessed him and Vivi in such a vulnerable moment. Well, I’m feeling vulnerable too.   

 

“Are you sure, Law?” 

 

“Yes.” I want to be alone now more than anything. 

 

Shanks pulls up in his car, a frantic Sabo in the passenger’s seat. I let them both know that I’ll wait here. Too upset to convince me otherwise, Sabo promises to call me if they find Mugiwara. 

 

I watch them drive off. 

 

The sun begins to set. Reminds me of evenings when I’d walk aimlessly along the pier staring out at the Pacific. This is a first—I’ve never missed home before. 

 

My wetsuit chafes my skin, hypersensitive to everything given my anxiety. I run inside the surfing school and nearly trip over myself. When I stumble into the changing room, it’s deserted. Outside I hear the waves. 

 

The clothes that I grab out of my cubby are wrinkly and cold. This shirt is from Mugiwara's apartment. 

 

Flashes of last night...lying by his side, him burying his nose into the nape of my neck…

 

I cover my face in the t-shirt. Trying to claim all that might be left of him, I’m caught in a riptide of emotions.

 

“Idiot,” my voice muffled, my shoulders hunched. I’m wetting Mugiwara’s shirt with droplets from my wet hair. 

 

Dammit, why do I always have to be in denial about things? Those are fucking _tears_. It’s not water.    

 

I let my insecurities complicate a relationship with someone that I really started to care about. 

 

He was right there. I could have told him then. 

 

“I don’t want to be with anyone else but you,” as if I’m really talking to him. “I love you.”

 

That wasn’t so hard. Not that it really matters now anyway— 

 

“Law?” 

 

I do an about-face. Through the wetness in my eyes I see sandals connected to a pair of legs that undeniably belong to Mugiwara. 

 

“Um, my phone ran out of battery...” 

 

“Oh,” I'm still clutching his shirt. “We should...call Shanks.” 

 

Mugiwara nods. “Sure.” 

 

It takes ten very awkward seconds for Shanks to answer his phone. Mugiwara gets caught up on everything that’s happened. Fortunately he wasn’t involved in the accident but he did have to deal with the delays. Right now only injuries are being reported. Nothing fatal.

 

I hear Sabo tell him that making it back to Kanagawa will take a while because they're caught in a bad traffic jam. They give us an ETA of two hours or so. 

 

Oh great, more time to reflect on how much a fool I made out of myself. 

 

Mugiwara hands me back my phone. When I take it, his thumb lightly brushes against mine. 

 

I recoil a little. “How much of what I said did you hear?” 

 

He stares at the floor. “Everything.”

 

Maybe it will all just blow over. We can go back to our casual-but-not-casual relationship. 

 

But Mugiwara presses, “Did you mean it?” 

 

“I...I thought something had happened to you...” 

 

Oh, great, I’m back on my bullshit. That’s the best response I’ve got? 

 

An emotion that I can’t identify fills Mugiwara's eyes. He mumbles something about charging his phone in the surfing school’s office and walks away. 

 

I ditch the locker room to catch up to him. Outside the changing room it’s just the sand and the sea. There’s no hallway that connects the two surfing school buildings. Well, more like shacks. 

 

Under Kanagawa’s night sky, I stand between my denial and my truth. I continue to stall. 

 

Mugiwara drags his feet through the mounds of sand as he nears the office door. I quickly catch up to him so I can redeem myself.

 

I spin a very unprepared Mugiwara around and pull him into a tight embrace. 

 

Just out of earshot I hear waves crashing. A chilly wind sweeps debris around us. 

 

I'm hugged back tightly. 

 

“I meant every word. I love you, Luffy. Only you.”

 

When I pull back to behold his reaction, he's grinning. “I like it better when you call me Mugiwara.” 

 

Very lightly he drags his lips along mine. It's saying a lot with so little. The warmth emanating from Mugiwara is enough to make me forget that we’re on a beach that’s cold and windy. 

 

We continue to hold each other. Listening to the commotion of the currents, the beats of our hearts. I carefully press his back against the office door to steady him when he yanks me into a hot kiss that's unlike anything we've ever shared before. 

 

I grab hold of his waist to pull him closer, my wetsuit and his jeans caging the parts of us that want to be unleashed. The kiss gets a little out of hand. Together our bodies unintentionally slam into the rickety door. The sound reverberates. Right, we’re still outside. 

 

Mugiwara pauses our attempt to fuck each other through our clothes so he can do the honors of letting us into the office.

 

I hurry and shut the door expecting to get straight to business but Mugiwara goes to grab a phone charger out of the office desk. The nearest outlet provides his cell with enough power to barely light up the small space.

 

Even in the darkness, I can see Mugiwara's radiant smile and wild hair. Outside the sea is roaring, rain begins to fall. This building is a little rickety so the smell of wet earth seeps inside. 

 

“Wait here!” Mugiwara goes out into the fray. I’m getting blue balls, seriously. Moments later he returns with a few beach towels that he uses to form a makeshift love nest on the ground. They’re a little damp from the rain but honestly I'm horny not picky so what the fuck do I care. I'd have taken sex on the beach as an option if it meant having Mugiwara in my arms. 

 

I watch him settle on the towels. He glances up at me while patting the space next to him.

 

Rolling my eyes comes naturally but I give in and sit beside him. 

 

He taps my knuckles like piano keys. I don't recognize a melody but I enjoy how his fingertips tickle. Eventually his hand settles on top of mine.

 

“This will be our first time as...what, boyfriends? Lovers?” Mugiwara rests his cheek on my shoulder. 

 

I have never cared much for titles or labels. But in this situation it’s...applicable. 

 

The questions don’t stop. Mugiwara drags his teeth along the shell of my ear. “What was it you said back there? That I’m the only one you want to be with?” 

 

I mutter,“Technically you weren't even supposed to hear what I said so...”

 

“But I did! And now I get to make you _mine_.” The last part he emphasizes by crawling into my lap and installing himself between my legs. It's not like I wasn't his from the start. But I guess that this way, there's no doubt. 

 

He grinds into me. I'm so used to being on the other end. The role reversal ends up exciting me more than I thought it would. 

 

I bite down on his earlobe. As he squirms in my grasp, I tighten my hold so as to not to let my treasure slip away. “You’re the only one I want,” I whisper it first but repeat this to his face. Mugiwara’s hot skin reinforces the fact that he’s got a thing for my voice. 

 

Shivering, Mugiwara attaches his mouth to my neck, where he can taste the saltiness of the sea, the neoprene from my suit. I take advantage of our position to bring my nails down his back. That elicits a moan out of him. I'm happy to have struck the right chord on his body. 

 

I don't get to enjoy the control I have for too long because I'm pushed back onto the beach towels below. Mugiwara struggles to tear off my wetsuit but when all of me is laid bare he seizes the opportunity. I dig my heels into the ground as he leaves a trail of kisses down my body. I lose it when he greedily licks at the pre-cum gathered at my cockhead. 

 

I try to regain my composure. Mugiwara hasn't expressed interest in going down on me so I have never expected it from him. His mouth on me is definitely a new sensation.

 

He hooks my legs over his shoulders and pulls me closer. I tremble slightly as my thighs are spread open. 

 

I'm completely red, from my forehead all the way down to my neck. Mugiwara fucking winks at me before lapping at my head once more. The whole tip of my cock gets encircled by his full, warm lips. 

 

I let out a very emphatic “fuck!” once I feel his tongue swirling around my sensitive flesh. 

 

Mugiwara opens his mouth to show me the lewd way his tongue is moving. I even see how he watches my jizz trickle down to my balls. Some of it sticks to the base of my cock. Mugiwara consumes the small puddle like it's sugar. 

 

He's copying my technique with the way he wants to take me all the way in. I'm flattered but I don't like the idea of Mugiwara being uncomfortable trying to imitate my style. I push back on him before he can get too deep. A long, sticky line of my cum sticks to his bottom lip as he pulls away.

 

We kiss but he keeps the reunion of our tongues brief so that his mouth can venture below my sac. His tongue lazily travels further and further down. Is he really going to do what I think he’s going to do? I sit up to stop him but I'm too late. _Christ_ —

 

I have no way to describe the first few seconds of Mugiwara rimming me. He's definitely done this before. But as he starts simultaneously jacking me off, I let the idea go. 

 

“ _Please_ keep doing that...” I beg, my hand blindly reaching for Mugiwara’s hair to tug. I hear his exaggerated licking, slurping. 

 

The hot wetness of his tongue is replaced by the thickness of his three fingers, plunging deep inside of me. I can see his erection getting bigger as I keep crying out. I have to lift myself up a little just to get a better glance. In turn I let Mugiwara's fingers go even deeper. He’s stretching and massaging me tirelessly. 

 

“Here, right?” One of Mugiwara's nails scratches the trigger that sends me on a high. Very much against my usual self-control, I spurt right in his face. He jumps on the chance to eat my cum. My apologies turn into slurred speech as I feel the last shots of my load go off in Mugiwara's hungry mouth. 

 

My cum stains his nose, cheeks, and chin. Some dribbles from the corners of his mouth as he swallows. Some even drips unto my face when Mugiwara lovingly leans over me. “You came so much,” I hear him comment before we start swapping cum and spit. I clean whatever I can off of him. 

 

This all feels like a fever dream. I don't know when I'll come back down. Mugiwara's words go in one ear and out the other. I understand that he's asking me something but my ears are ringing. I can't discern anything. I notice he's taking his jeans off. _Finally_. I’m so ready to get fucked so I can cum again. 

 

I'm kissed on the jaw while Mugiwara straddles my hips. It takes me a few seconds to detect just what he's doing exactly. 

 

His ass slides along my very slippery cock. It's been a while since I've been the one doing the penetration. It's not that I don't enjoy it, I just prefer to not be the one doing it. Mugiwara doesn't appear the least bit hesitant about sitting on me. My mind tries to concoct some kind of objection but he's already sliding down...  

 

Ah, _fuck,_ he's a lot tighter than I expected. 

 

Gripping my shoulder, Mugiwara bounces on me at a level of fierce that I didn't know he was capable of. I yelp in surprise but find myself moaning unabashedly only seconds later. Still, I have the decency to ask if it hurts. I stroke his cock, surprisingly rock solid. He’s really getting off on this. And he had the nerve to call _me_ a pervert. 

 

I’m too wrapped up in Mugiwara showering me in words about how horny I sound and how snug my cock fits in him. He hums very loudly in delight, claiming that he can't get enough of this. That only serves to make me weaker. Or strong enough to get me rolling my hips along his.

 

“I want you to fuck me too,” Mugiwara pauses just to let me lead. I'm not good at being put on the spot like this but I'm determined to hit his spot. I grab the sides of his ass and pump my body upwards.

 

“Keep going, just like that,” he encourages, treating me to his own cries, becoming raspier as his voice starts to give out. Shit, I should be recording this right now. I love that I’m the one making him feel so good. Maybe next time. 

 

His voice is addicting. Every time his dirty moans reach my ears, blood rushes straight to my cock. Mugiwara starts to move again but I switch us into missionary. Now he's the one on his back, dazed. I cup his face and keep our noses touching. 

 

Over the sound of rain we’re both breathing heavily. I still push through the fatigue from all our strenuous movement. Not to be outdone, Mugiwara's hips rise and fall eagerly. All the while I'm witnessing Mugiwara getting lost in it. His eyes are shut but the rest of his features are blissfully relaxed. He really does look irresistible that way.  

 

I hook my arms under his shoulders, just like he did with my legs earlier. This shifts his body up more. I start drilling the part of him that sends him howling. Despite the limits of his position, he tries to take as much direction  as possible. 

 

When stamina starts to run out, I slip out on accident. Mugiwara whimpers. He randomly knocks his ass against my thighs trying to get me back inside him.

 

“Hey, hey, calm down,” I run a hand through the strands sticking to his forehead. “This can't be your first time doing this.” I want him to fess up. 

 

Now Mugiwara's the one blushing. “It's not, I mean, not with an actual person...”

 

I piece his story together, “You've been _playing_ with yourself?”

 

He admits that he was just curious at first and wanted to know what it felt like. Then it kind of just took off from there. 

 

Oh, that's gold. I make a note to scan his apartment for toys when I get the chance. “So you're a—”

 

“A pervert. Yeah,” he laughs. “We're absolutely perfect for each other.”

 

That we are. My tip pokes at his hole before ramming inside. Mugiwara screams with renewed excitement. I want to fuck him all night he feels so incredible. The way he's clawing at my back tells me he's probably thinking the same. 

 

“I wanna cum inside you,” I hardly manage to pant. “Can I?”

 

I continue to deliver deliberate thrusts, precise and orgasm-inducing. Mugiwara answers with an emphatic nod. No, that won't do. I stop cold. “Say you want me to cum in you.”

 

At that moment I feel the tightness of his body around my dick. It’s trying my patience. I don’t know why I haven’t done this before. Mugiwara himself is like some kind of nympho-twink hybrid. The way he moves and sounds is reminiscent of the women I’ve been with. But it’s still him, an Adonis with a hot throbbing cock that’s spilling cum on himself.

 

“I want your cum inside me,” he whimpers. I don't hold back anymore. He pleads for me to fuck him harder and all I can do is comply. 

 

He's not at all shy about letting me know how much he loves being under me like this. Without warning he grabs me for a kiss that takes my entire concentration. It's so heated and passionate. “I love you too, Law,” Mugiwara smiles into our embrace. 

 

It shouldn't have taken a tragedy to get my feelings out in the open. I vow to be affectionate, not overly affectionate, but at least more appreciative. I can't imagine being without Mugiwara. Even if we argue, break up, and get back together a hundred times over, I'll always want him. 

 

“L-Law,” Mugiwara's lust-ridden moan reminds me to be in the present. I return his words tenfold. I love him and I don't ever want to be too afraid to say it. 

 

Forehead pressed against my chest, Mugiwara hits his climax hard. He splurts between us but he doesn't stop rocking our bodies together. I finally give him what he wants. I grunt as several hot bursts of semen spray Mugiwara's insides. I fall limp unto him and his sticky mess. Initially it's all incredibly warm. 

 

What time did they say they'd be back? There's no clock on the wall. We'll have to shower in the other building. 

 

For the moment, however, I just enjoy existing. 

 

Mugiwara removes a towel to wipe at our slick skin. “I'm sorry I made you worry about me.”

 

“It's OK. I'm glad nothing happened to you.”

 

We share a really peaceful silence until Mugiwara's damn phone notifies us that Shanks sent a message.  

 

I grab the obnoxious device and read the text. 

 

“Shanks says that he’ll be here in twenty minutes so we better 'clean up.'” 

 

Mugiwara smiles. “He really likes that I'm with you. I hope he's not intrusive?” 

 

“No! He’s really great.” I see that my last message to Mugiwara is still unread. “Even if he did force his way into your apartment and eat your burger this morning.” 

 

“He did _what_!?”

 

I'm still laughing about it as we shower together. It's as cold as fuck but having Mugiwara close by helps. We dry off in a hurry. Mugiwara's eyes are on me the whole time. 

 

“What?” I pipe up as we're putting on whatever spare clothes we can find in the changing room. 

 

“Nothing, I just...” Mugiwara thinks for a second. “Isn't it a hassle coming to see me? If we lived together—”

 

“Move in together? Mugiwara, that's a big deal.” 

 

“Which is why you should definitely consider it for next year. My lease will be up so we can even look for a place together.”

 

I shrug, “I'll think about it.”

 

“Don't feel pressured,” Mugiwara assures me. “ _Hitorigurashi_ (1) gets a little lonely and I wouldn't mind waking up with you every morning.”

 

Well, when you put it that way. 

 

“I do make a great burnt omelette.”

 

Mugiwara gasps. “And I'll eat anything!”

 

I'm actually considering this. Like, really picturing us living together. Right on cue, Shanks's car pulls up, interrupting my domestic fantasy. 

 

Sabo almost tackles his brother to the ground. The relief and exhaustion on everyone's faces is palpable. I take a look at Mugiwara's family and realize that they're my family now too, in a way. Had it not been for Mugiwara, I would have arranged transferring to a school back in California. 

 

But fate brought us together.

 

 

 

**OWARI**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M CRYING CUZ I LUUUUUUVVVV YOOOUUUU 
> 
> THE END!! Yay I'm doooonnneee!!!
> 
> *ugly cries* Now I must return to lurking here on AO3 and Tumblr (come say hi to me! @alexgrand_1)! 🤣 
> 
> Thank you so much for sticking through to the end! I love all the readers who commented and inspired me to finish this. This fic definitely got me more comfortable with writing smut LOL. Now to focus on reading. Send me any recs! I've also written some ZoSan one-shots so check out Five-Second Rule and/or Free Food if you want! 
> 
> PEACE!
> 
> (1) Living by oneself; living alone


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